Her Precious Red Scarf
by PhantomTwilighter2009
Summary: Christine and Gustave have decided to take a walk along the beach, but the wind has blown Christine's scarf into the sea. A boy rushes into the water to save it. Guess who the boy is.


**Hi! It's like midnight where I am, but the wind is keeping me awake and there is no way I'm going to sleep. It's way too loud and I'm a light sleeper so I've decided to write. I can't guarantee that this will be my best work considering the hour, but you people have taken the risk of reading it! I'm wide awake though so it might help this story's chances of being half ways decent!**

**Her Precious Red Scarf**

It was such a beautiful day outside and Gustave owed it to his precious girl to go for a walk; it had been so long since the two had some time together and he wasn't going to pass these few hours with her.

"Christine, darling, do you want to go for a walk on the beach?" he called, expecting to hear an excited giggle. The house they lived in wasn't fancy, compared to the other homes that lined the beach, but it was warm when the fire was lit and it kept them dry when it rained, so he couldn't complain.

Christine walked down the narrow hallway, rubbing her pretty brown eyes with her tiny fist. Gustave had woken her up from her nap and he could tell already that she was going to be very disagreeable.

"Papa, I want a nap." She grumbled, chocolate curls sticking out at every angle on her head. The five year-old didn't like being disturbed when she was sleeping, but she could tell something had her papa in a good mood.

"Do you want to go for a walk, mon ange? I never get to spend time with you because of how busy I am and I have some time before I go to my next job." Gustave smiled as he watched the little girl's face brighten instantly.

Christine knew time alone with her papa was precious; it held the same equivalence as getting a special gift on Christmas morning. "Really? Oh, Papa, let me go get my coat and scarf and boots and I'll be right there!" she jumped and ran off to the room the two shared. Pulling on and lacing her boots and grabbing her cloak, Christine grabbed the small wooden box that held her most sacred treasure: her mother's red silk scarf. She had gotten it when she was just a baby and it was the only thing she had left of her mother. Her papa told her that she had died during her birth and Christine always carried around the guilt that she was the one who had taken away her papa's beloved wife, but he always told her that it wasn't her fault. _"It was just her time to go, Ange. One day, we'll all have to go." _

Shaking her head of the memory, Christine wrapped it around her neck, running her tiny hands through her rampant curls as she looked at herself in the grimy mirror and headed out into the living room, where her papa waited with his own tattered cloak and blue wool scarf.

"Is milady ready for her escort?" he teased, bending down a little and offering his arm for his daughter to take.

"Papa, you're so silly!" Christine giggled, accepting her papa's arm. Gustave loved hearing her musical laughter; it was something that was rare nowadays. Their financial situation wasn't exactly what someone would call "stable", but as long as he could provide the bread and see the smile on Christine's pale face, it was worth it.

"Can I sit on your shoulders, Papa; it would be easier for you because you wouldn't have to lean down." Speaking of his daughter.

"Of course you can, Christine. Just try not to kick Papa in the head, alright?"

"Deal!" she squealed as he lifted her up on his broad shoulders. She loved being up off the ground; her papa was a tall man, she didn't know how tall, but he was pretty high up, and it gave her a great view of everything around her.

"Do you want to go on the beach?" Gustave questioned after a moment of comfortable silence. It was his intention from the start to take her to the beach, but Christine had a deathly fear of the water, afraid that if she got too close it would swallow her up.

Christine didn't move, didn't breathe, for a few seconds. Why was her papa suggesting the beach? The scary water was there and he knew how much it scared her to be that close to it! "Can't we walk somewhere else? In the village, perhaps?"

"You need to get over this fear of the water, Christine; we're going to be living here for a while."

"But Papa! The water doesn't look like it's nice and I'm afraid that it'll hurt you!"

"Do you have such little faith in your papa? He would never let anything harm you or him. Trust me, Christine, I'll protect you." Gustave reassured his shaking daughter, wishing that he could help her conquer her fear of water. It was such an odd fear for her too; she was fine around fire, heights, animals, bugs, even spiders! How could she be afraid of something like water?

"I have faith in you, Papa! I love my papa!" she cried; her grip tightening on his collar, Christine wished she had never asked to walk somewhere else. She was wasting time alone with her papa, which she didn't get very often. "I'm sorry, Papa."

"You have nothing to apologize for, mon amour. You'll be fine once we get there; I'll never leave your side."

"Promise?" sticking her tiny pinky in his face, Gustave brought his larger one up to hers and promised her with all over his heart. Walking on, he noticed that it was becoming more and more windy the closer they got to the water. Perhaps they should have stuck to the village or the fields.

"Hold onto your scarf tightly, Christine; the wind is really strong today."

"Alright, Papa; I'll hold onto Mother's scarf." Christine smiled and wrapped her slim fingers around the silky material tightly.

Despite the wind, the walk was enjoyable; Gustave spent most of the time hunting for seashells for his little girl while she tried her best to keep the sand out of her shoes. Before too long, he looked at his watch, one of the only things he hadn't pawned so he could pay for rent, and saw that it was time for them to head back home so he could get ready to leave. "Christine, darling, we've got to go."

"Do we really have to, Papa?" Christine pouted, disappointment obvious in her belle like voice. Nodding his head, Gustave picked up his daughter and began to walk back towards the shack they considered to be home, but it seemed that the wind had other plans for the small family.

A particularly harsh gust of wind hit them, nearly knocking over the man and sand blowing in his face. This was a reason why Gustave hated the beach so much: there was too much sand and no matter what a person did to avoid it, it seemed to attach itself and they'd end up dragging half of the beach home with them.

"Papa! Mother's scarf! It blew off, Papa!" Christine cried, watching the silky scarf land in the sea. How could that have happened? She had been holding onto it tightly like a good girl, but the mean wind blew it out of her grasp somehow and now it was lost in the water.

Gustave saw the only reminder of his wife sitting in the cold, unforgiving water. He knew he should run into the water and get it for his darling Christine, but he would certainly catch his death in that water! Before he could reassure his daughter that everything would be alright, that he could give her something else that had belonged to her mother, he saw a young boy dash past them, heading straight towards the water.

"Get back here at once, young man!" a voice called, scolding the boy who was completely ignoring him.

"What is he doing, Papa?" Christine sniffled, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand. Why was the boy running out into the water? Was it to get her precious scarf back? And if that was what he was doing, she had never met him before. Why would he be doing something so nice to a person he had never met?

"I believe he is getting your mother's scarf from the sea, my dear." Gustave whispered in relief. That scarf was _the_ only thing left from his wife, besides the locket she had left him, instructing him to give it to their daughter when she was old enough, and he knew how much the scarf meant for his Christine.

It felt like an eternity as they watched the boy swimming out into the freezing water, successfully snatching the scarf, and struggling to swim back. Gustave could see that the current was too strong for the boy to swim back alone and he would surely drown if he didn't get any help. Putting Christine on a nearby rock, he shed his cloak and own scarf, he began to swim towards the boy, praying that he would have the strength to reach him in time.

The sea is such a deceiving thing; it seems calm and friendly, but when you enter it, invade it's territory, then it becomes angry and violent, threatening to pull you under and end your life as quickly as you came into it. Gustave had always been in excellent shape, but nothing could have prepared him for the frigid temperatures and strong waves as he swam, determined to reach the boy. _You can do this. You have to make it. Think about Christine and how happy she'll be once you bring her scarf back._

Centering his thoughts around his daughter, Gustave finally found the boy; he was barely above this surface, his hand still had a death grip on the red scarf. Grasping his hand, he took a deep breath and began to swim back to shore. Finally, when he thought that they would never make it back, he felt the water going lower and lower until he was walking on the shore, half carrying the boy with him.

"M-Merci…Monsieur." The boy said, his teeth chattering horribly.

"You shouldn't be so reckless…my boy," Gustave replied breathlessly, "you'll get yourself…killed…one day."

Seeing the boy nodding his head, he watched as he walked up to Christine, still shivering and soaking wet, and handing her the equally soaking scarf. "T-This is…f-for y-you, Mademoiselle."

"Merci! Oh, you have no idea…oh, Papa, this boy saved it for me! You'll get sick if we stay out here! Papa, we have to dry him off!" Christine panicked, trying to dry him off with her cloak.

"Young man! Come here at once!" the same voice as before barked. The boy's head visibly fell, but Christine could see a smirk on his lips.

"Coming, S-Signor." The boy replied, walking towards the older looking man who appeared to be very cross.

"Wait!" Christine called, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder, "What is your name?"

The boy smiled at the girl's curiosity, he kneeled down so that he was eye level with her and told her, "Erik, Mademoiselle. Erik Destler."

Christine thought the name over in her mind; she had always liked the name Erik and was glad that the boy who had saved her mother's scarf name was Erik.

"I like your name. Mine is Christine Daae! Can we be friends, Erik?"

Erik looked back over at his master, Signor Giovanni, who only nodded, his face hard as the stone they worked with, but his eyes were gentle and understanding.

"Of course we can be, Christine. We can be friends for as long as you'd like."

**This was super short, but I didn't intend it to be very long anyway. You can take this story anyway you want; it can be a prequel to ****Memories**** or a standing alone story. It started off as a standing alone story, but when I realized that it could fit perfectly with my other story, perhaps it could be a prequel. I don't really care. I wrote it because the idea had popped into my head while I was working last weekend I have been itching to write it. You guys know the drill: Read, if I'm lucky, Fave, and Review! **

**^.^**


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